And when I say gloom, I’m not wanting to evoke Halloweenish things like bellowing ghosts in graveyards, black cats crossing an empty street at night, giant jack-o-lanterns eating an entire village, etc. etc. That would be too happy for me and that would mean I’m soaking up October’s ambient jollity.
And when I say gloom I don’t mean melancholy, because melancholy is too sweet of a word. Nothing is inspiring right now, I am not Dante’s Beatrice (as best seen in La Vita Nuova) floating about in the clouds feeling so pleased with myself for dying a virgin and evoking this transcendent ideal of divine love.
What I mean is just plain old bipolar depression during what’s supposed to be a really balanced and creative month for me. But every time I look in the mirror I don’t feel happy enough with myself, and I just put a depressing twist on the things I should be appreciating. Like beautiful autumn leaves? That’s just nature having one last hurrah before shriveling up. When I’m taking a walk and analyzing all the colorful leaves on the sidewalk, I feel equal amounts of pleasure and pain. And of course, pain tends to have a stronger impression.
I have a horrible heaviness in my head that I can’t shake. Positive moments are fairly abundant, but they can’t stop the weight from crashing down afterwards. The heaviness comes so quickly, and the fatigue is so immediate. I’m not even having terribly negative thoughts much of the time, it’s just a prevalent heaviness that keeps me from liking myself enough to stay awake.
I wish (so fucking much) that I could just write about my positive moments, because I love language and I love romanticizing life with words. Those moments happen. They just don’t stay in focus.
Meds talk for a minute? I’m on 200mg of Lamictal to prevent mania, and 20mg of Prozac to ease depression. Been on Lamictal for over 4 years, and Prozac for a bit over a year. Took a while to convince my psychiatrist it was safe for me to take an antidepressant and that it wouldn’t send me over the moon (which it hasn’t). I also started birth control pills last month to help with some feminine discomfort (see last post). Maybe birth control is fucking with me. I think this is the worst I’ve been for awhile, because this is the first time I think I need to say there’s something wrong with the things I’m swallowing every night.